


Stasis of Time

by Lyrae_Immortalis



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Drunken Ramblings, Excessive Drinking, Heartbroken Oswald, I Think You All Know What To Expect From Me By Now, Iceberg Lounge, M/M, One-sided Conversation, Post Season 3 Finale, Regret, Unrequited Love, frozen!Ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyrae_Immortalis/pseuds/Lyrae_Immortalis
Summary: Some nights Oswald was too busy to spare Ed anything more than a passing glance, however tonight was not one of those nights.





	Stasis of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to have this up sooner but I slacked off. I guess that's what happens when you're actively writing ten fics at once. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Oswald sat in his booth nursing his fifth drink for the evening. Vodka on the rocks, although instead of a small collection of icecubes, his glass held a single chunk of ice floating in the centre. There was a reason his establishment was called the Iceberg Lounge and that wasn’t solely attributed to the nature of Oswald’s moniker nor the grand attraction found towards the rear of the room.

 

Low music thrummed in the background, some nonsensical beat Oswald cared little for as his attention was captured by the small twinkle of lights that glittered over the glacier, sparkling off each rigid point. Edward always did love the lights, and now they dazzled overhead drawing everyone’s eyes to the prominent display.

 

Oswald sipped his drink as a few patrons stopped by his booth before leaving for the evening. It was a newfound respect he had garnered and although different from the attention he received as mayor, Oswald found he enjoyed it all the same. The names "Cobblepot" and "Penguin" were tossed around between handshakes and slight tilts of the head. Oswald stood and nodded to the very last customer as he snatched up his glass and half empty bottle of vodka with a delayed huff.

 

"You alright boss?"

 

Peering over his shoulder, Oswald squinted through his drunken haze at one of his bartenders. Jason was a tall gangly looking thing, wearing thin framed glasses and tight fitting clothes. Oswald had almost mistaken him for Edward when he first applied for a bartending position, and caused quite the ruckus too; smashing a bottle and hissing insults before forcing himself to calm, stopping mere moments before he tore the man’s head off. The abrupt outburst prompted Oswald to hire the man on the spot. If Jason could deal with an attack like that and still wish to work in his lounge, he was either very brave, undeniably stupid, or a cause of great concern. In the event of another betrayal, Oswald decided it was best to keep the man close. He would be easily observed and dispatched should the need arise. Perhaps Oswald could even start a collection of iced figurines. It would be quite the statement.

 

“Jason, I’m fine for the evening. Close up and go home, I will see you tomorrow.” Oswald eyed the man till he made moves to leave then he turned his attention back to the sculpture before him. It had been six months since Edward had been encased in his frozen prison and in that time the centerpiece of his lounge had garnered mixed results. People were intrigued until they realised who it was that was trapped, held stasis for all to bare witness. Some were mortified, othered enthralled at the prospect. Oswald once had the idea of creating a plaque detailing the events of Ed's current circumstances but found that he liked the ambiguity. Many knew of his relationship with Ed thanks to their positions in society, and to see him displayed… well it gave Oswald another level of power, for why would someone mess with the man who turned his closest  _ friend  _ into furniture.

 

“At least you have your much sought after audience now,” Oswald huffed as he swallowed the last of his drink before topping the glass, sending the small iceberg afloat. Tucking his cup underneath his chin, Oswald peered around his club with a small half smile etched on his face. He was doing well. This venture proved significantly more prosperous than his last attempt at running a club. The Iceberg Lounge was a fine establishment, garnering the attention of Gotham City’s residents from the very second it opened. Edward certainly brought in the crowd, there wasn't another piece like him. He was well and truly unique,  _ in that respect _ .

 

“People pay more attention to you now than they ever did when you were alive. How does that feel, Edward, to have all eyes on you because of me?”  _ That's all this was ever about wasn’t it?  _ Oswald thought as he downed another mouthful of his vodka whilst swaying unsteadily on his feet. Ed was nothing but a self-serving child looking to garner attention from whatever convoluted area he could. Little good it did him in the end.

 

“You also make more money for me now than you ever did when you were alive.” Oswald laughed bitterly and slammed his half empty bottle of vodka down onto one of the round tables nearest to the chilling a _ ttraction _ . The frozen figure stared back at him blankly, the look of fear, anger and regret forever etched on his face with a scream caught in his throat.

 

“You know what I find absolutely hilarious about this entire situation,  _ Edward _ ?” Oswald strode forward till he adopted the same position he did on the docks, satisfied grin and all. “You are immortalised in my image. You will forever be displayed in a false air. Edward Nygma: The Riddler. A fabrication. You’re entire identity is a lie and now everyone knows it!”

 

Oswald took a gulp of his drink, the chunk of ice collided with his lips and the vodka burned down his throat, filling him with an artificial warmth that would eventually fade away leaving him as empty as he felt before he started his nightly binge. Day in and out Oswald was surrounded with people, his house played host to his seemingly permanent residents, his club was overflowing too, however there was no one left in his heart. His parents were dead, as was Fish... and Edward too.

 

Everyday felt the same, it was the routine and then regret which he tried to swallow down between sips of alcohol. Why should he feel regret for his actions? He responded to Edward’s outlandish actions the only way he could. Ed should be grateful he didn’t shoot him and toss him off the docks as it would have been a fitting punishment. The thought did ruminate in Oswald’s mind for a time, however after returning from those murky waters twice, Oswald didn’t want to risk it. He’d rather have Ed in plain sight for only then Oswald knew he wouldn’t have to watch his back in fear of retaliation.

 

“Here’s to us, Ed,” Oswald said as he extended his glass in mock toasting. “Six months down the line and we are still together… although not quite in the way I had hoped.”

 

Pulling up a nearby chair, Oswald flopped into it, legs slipping out beneath him as the last vestiges of anger gave way to heavy emotion. He stared up at Ed, frowning at the way his hands reached out for him. Was it in attack or was Ed going to beg for forgiveness in his final moments? Oswald was uncertain and that was something that frightened him. “Do you know how hard this past year has been for me, and I’m not just talking about  _ our _ struggles but therein lie the root of it all.”

 

Time moved forward yet Ed stayed the same. He wouldn’t age or deteriorate, he would never change.

 

Oswald sniffed as he lifted his head and blinked back tears he wished to never shed for Edward again. Why did he keep doing this? It only made his pain deepen as it wove its way through every fiber of his being. “You did this to yourself you know,” Oswald paused, leaving space for the harsh throwbacks he knew Ed would spit if given the chance, “and yes while I may have instigated these events, in the end it was your actions that put you in that block of ice.”

 

Oswald sighed and swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Unbeknownst to Ed, Oswald had given him every opportunity to call this off, to walk away as peacefully as he could. Just like Ed tested the true depth of Oswald’s love, Oswald had used a similar tactic created in a split second decision to test how fixated Ed was on these sets of events. “You failed, Edward. You failed my test and I... I hate you for it.” 

 

Oswald’s tears responded to gravity, or perhaps it was greif forcing hot trails down his cheeks in a steady stream. His vision cleared with every blink before clouding again milliseconds later as he gazed up at his former friend.

 

Ed was encased inside the ice, an arctic chill found home in every pore as he stood rigid, preserved like one of Victor’s experiments. Oswald had plenty of experience with that feeling. He could  _ still _ recall the icy chill the water at the docks gave him. How it seemed to seep down into his very heart and settled within the marrow of his bones, entwining itself with his very dna. Oswald didn’t mind, for a long time that sensation kept him safe. The detachment. His own selfish desire. It became his armour against the terrors of the city. It protected him until  _ love  _ cracked the frozen casing, letting in a long forgotten warmth. Oswald had tried to draw back that numbing shell again; feelings were messy, dangerous even, there was too much unpredictability and uncertainty lying within them. They hazed a once clear mind like in a fog all too similar to the one that rolled over the bay on frosty mornings. He tried to seal them away, but his efforts were for naught. 

 

“At the docks, you asked me if I had something to say and I told you I’d wait.” Oswald ran his hand through his hair as a number of unanswered questions passed through his mind.  _ When will I be able to see you and greet you with a happy smile? When will our past become forgotten history? Can I fix us? Are we worth mending? _

 

“I still find myself at a lack of words as all my thoughts centre around how long you will remain my prisoner. I don’t know if it’s the best idea to set you free, despite every impulse telling me otherwise… but that’s just selfish desire, something you berated me for many times.” Oswald swirled his drink, listening to the tinkling of the iceberg as it connected with the edge of the glass. Just as the ice cube battered the inside of the cup, Oswald's emotions waged wars in the depths of his heart.

 

His tears flowed freely now, running wet trails down his cheeks, streaking his makeup. Oswald wished he could forget about Ed, to put him in the past where he belonged, alongside Galavan, Maroni and anyone else who had once sought to destroy him. But as he sat there he realised that sometimes there was no moving on. He had spoken with Ed in his frozen state a many times and it never rectified anything, after all how much could a one sided conversation change. 

 

Some nights he was too busy to spare Ed anything more than a passing glance, however tonight was not one of those nights. Just like when he was alive and breathing, Ed drew him in, it was one thing that would never change between them. They needed each other in order to survive. Oswald frowned as he recalled the memory of crying before Ed at the docks, speaking words of love. They needed each other. Ed proved that when he shot him and sealed their fates, entwining their lives and deaths in a convoluted mess. The firing of a lone bullet killed them both.

 

Oswald briskly wiped his eyes clean, sloshing his drink in the process. He wanted out of this nightmarish reality. The sounds of Edward's cries rang in his ears as he stared up at the man he loved. Night after night they plagued him, filling his dreams with haunting images. Never before had Oswald felt such regret.

 

Inhaling a shaky break Oswald closed his eyes but that only made the memory clearer, however all too soon pained screams gave way to Ed’s gentle laughter and when he recalled Ed's smile Oswald choked on his own sorrow.

 

He never had time to say goodbye and hello may never come again. Oswald could look at Ed standing rigid before him and that was all he would ever be able to do again. Time would continue to turn and eventually what was once a person would become art. Like photographs that connect people to the past, Edward was his statue. The tall pillar that once stood beside him was now the foundation of his next prosperous venture.

 

“I know I’ve said it countless times before, but I am sorry, Ed. I’m sorry we turned out this way, I’m sorry for trapping you in the ice but I couldn’t let you go. Six months down the line and I still want you near me... even if it’s not real.”

 

Even though his heart continued to break,Oswald stared at Ed, his bottom lip quivered before he pulled it between his teeth.  For a small snapshot in time Oswald had let himself dream, to believe with his whole heart that there was someone who could see past the created images and peer through his layers. Someone who could love him. "I wanted that to be you..."

 

"We could have been phenomenal." and now they were two icebergs lost at sea, floating endlessly through the ravine of time. Oswald’s mind rang with alternate pathways they could have transversed together as both a political couple and the villainous duo. They could have had it all, their lives were once on track swiftly heading towards a bright future, yet it quickly derailed spiralling into a devastating set of events. Oswald sobbed as he tossed his glass, the shattered segments littering the floor around him reflected the very nature of his heart. Broken, irreparable, destroyed as a result of his very own actions.

 

Forcing himself out of the chair, Oswald stood and advanced on Ed. He balled his fists and pounded on the glass casing as his heartbreak threatened to topple him. “I gave you a-a chance to prove to me you could change. I gave you  _ every _ opportunity but you were so  _ f-fixated _ on killing me. Your last attack saw me die in the depths of the river but this is so much worse Ed, because e-without you, I am dying everyday.” 

 

Oswald slid down the glass, it squeaked as his hands tried to find something to hold onto but the smooth surface provided little support. As his legs slid out from beneath him, Oswald continued to pound on the glass, losing strength as his cries escalated.

 

“I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost without you.”

  
Oswald stayed there all night, crying beside the man that  _ still _ held the shattered remains of his heart. In the morning one of the staff members would find him curled in a tight ball, whispering Ed’s name. They would sigh before escorting Oswald to the back room where a couch lie in waiting for moments such as these.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Please continue to do the whole kudos/comment thing. It keeps me motivated!
> 
> My tumblr: [riddlerbird.tumblr.com](url)


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